


Standing in the light 'til it's over

by purple_cube



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 03:50:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/934965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A five kisses story. Written for the Dreamwidth comm fic_promptly and the prompt "it started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this, it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss" from The Killers' Mr. Brightside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing in the light 'til it's over

 

It started out with a kiss.

 

A kiss as a means to an end – or, at least, to the keys of a Lamborghini. The money from its sale had been intended for her escape from Gotham and from Bane, but as usual, things never did play out as Selina intended.

 

But, as she had told Bruce Wayne, she was adaptable.

 

And she had adapted. But her gut had been uneasy, so when Bruce Wayne and Batman resurfaced, she had followed her instincts and did what was asked of her.

 

He didn’t need to know that she had made it out of the other end of the tunnel, paused to take one deep breath followed by another, before finally turning back toward Gotham – and to him.

 

~

 

The second kiss? Well, that one was different. That one, she had meant.

 

_There is no autopilot._

 

The kiss was intended to say so many things. _Sorry it had to come to this. Thank you for everything. Goodbye._

 

But most of all, she was sorry for her betrayal. She had watched them break him in that sewer, and had gone on to watch him break over and over again in her dreams since. She didn’t often allow herself the luxury of regret, but that one had stayed with her until the moment he had reemerged and asked for her help once more.

 

The kiss had been longer than it should have been, given the circumstance. But he didn’t pull away, so neither did she.

 

It had been an accident of sorts, an old habit that she couldn’t quite break. Her free hand dipped to his belt and tugged at a loose object. Clasping it tightly, she waited until the whirring of the aircraft’s engine faded to nothing before looking down at her ‘memento’. It was a thin plate of metal shaped into a bat.

 

When she finally left Gotham, over a week after the end of the siege, she brushed her thumb over the piece of metal one last time before tossing it into the river.

 

_It was only a kiss._

 

~

 

The third kiss took her by surprise, and in more ways than one. A job, a simple in-and-out in London, had proved too tempting to resist and she donned her work outfit with more than a little pride.

 

Satisfied that she had all of the cash and hadn’t set off any alarms, Selina made her way to the rooftop of the bank. Pausing at the edge of the building, she took in the view as she waited for the adrenaline rush to subside.

 

A familiar voice broke through the dull hum of the night traffic. “So much for the _clean slate_.”

 

“A girl’s gotta eat,” she replied as she turned around, working hard to keep her voice and heart rate steady.

 

“You know,” he replied as he moved out of the shadow and towards her, “There are other ways to earn cash.”

 

“Said the man born a billionaire.” She pursed her lips as his mouth curled into a conceding shrug.

 

“Fair point. And seeing as this is money derived from Middle East arms dealing, I’ll let it pass this time.”

 

“Very gracious of you,” she muttered with an accompanying eye roll.

 

“I came to tell you that I was sorry for not letting you in on my plan. I saw an opportunity to change things, to change _me_ , and I had to take it.”

 

“Made no difference to me,” she shrugged, looking away.

 

“Didn’t it?” He came to a stop, close enough for her body to tense in its natural preparation for fight or flight. “Because the way you kissed me, well, I thought that _I_ might make a difference to you.”

 

Her mind started to formulate a reply, but he didn’t give her the chance. His hand came up to the nape of her neck, mirroring her action when they had last met. He brought her to him, lips hard and insistent. She froze for a moment before responding eagerly. She remembered this, the way he smelled, the way he felt. And she remembered liking it.

 

Eventually, her hands came to rest at his chest, pausing momentarily before shoving him hard enough to knock him off his feet. Confusion turned to understanding and then to desire, as she slowly lowered the zipper of her suit from her neck down to her stomach.

 

They fucked right there on the rooftop, lips crashing against neck and shoulder and chest, but never against each other.

 

After, she walked away without a word, never once glancing back.

 

~

 

The fourth kiss, well, she was determined that that would be their last.

 

He was waiting in her hotel room three nights later, hand ghosting over the envelope addressed to Jen that she left on the dressing table.

 

“I wanted to know what your plans were,” he said without preamble.

 

She didn’t answer, choosing instead to undress. As she stepped out of her shoes, he followed her to the bed, covering her body with his as she lay back.

 

He kissed her neck, gently at first, before using his teeth to nip at her. The sharp pain made her gasp, and she felt a snigger of satisfaction escape from his lips before he made his way down her body. She arched into his every touch, her resolve fading just a little with every passing moment.

 

She came with her hands fisted in his hair. He waited until her breathing had steadied before making his way back to the head of the bed. She reversed their positions before he had the chance to settle, before he had the chance to kiss her again.

 

She unzipped him and rode him with a quiet intensity, eyes deliberately unfocussed. His fingers dug into her thighs hard enough to leave bruises, moving only to brush her clit as he neared his climax.

 

Slowly, his grip loosened, and she lifted herself from him and from the bed in one fluid movement, making her way to the pile of her clothing. From the corner of her eye, she could see him rise onto his elbows to watch her.

 

She waited until she was ready to slip her feet into her shoes before turning to look at him. His face wore a mask, not that of Batman nor Bruce Wayne, but of a man weary of rejection. The sharp heels of her shoes clicked loudly as she made her way to him, stopping only when she perched at the edge of the bed by his side.

 

“You and I would never work,” she told him softly.

 

“You’re not even going to try?” The disquiet was odd to hear escape from those lips.

 

She could have told him so many stories of her time trying to please other people, of being continually disappointed, until the realization hit her that she could only rely upon herself.

 

But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she pressed her lips gently to his, her hand on his chest to prevent the kiss from deepening.

 

She couldn’t bring herself to return his gaze, turning away swiftly. She made a detour to the dressing table on her way out, picking up Jen’s letter.

 

She knew that he wouldn’t be there when she came back.

 

~

 

Six months pass before she found herself in London again.

 

A rooftop. A figure emerging from the shadow.

 

He may have exchanged Batman’s gear for plain black clothing and a balaclava, but she immediately recognized him from his gait.

 

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” she called out as he approached.

 

“I’m not the one who left,” he replied, his voice neutral.

 

He stopped half a meter in front of her, their heights level thanks to her working heels.  “Were you planning on staying this time?”

 

“Give me a reason.”

 

It was more than a request. It was a dare.

 

He leaned forward, lips crashing together as hard and as desperately as they had done the last time they were in Gotham. Pulling away, Selina worked to steady the rhythm of her breathing. Her gaze fell on his mouth, and she remembered this, remembered watching Batman as he spoke and wondering who the man was beneath the mask. And even now that she knew and recognized that face, she realized that she still didn’t know the answer, since Bruce Wayne was no less a carefully crafted persona than Batman had been.

 

Slowly, she reached up to trace those lips with her gloved forefinger. Her gut told her that she would probably enjoy finding out who the real man was.

 

“I guess I could stay a while.”


End file.
